I’m in phase one of getting back into my jeans. This means I can wear them for about fifteen minutes before getting in a bad mood about the way they have gotten tight in my upper thigh area. Which starts me thinking about whether or not all that sourdough bread was worth it. It felt … Continue reading I’m in Phase One of Getting Back into My Jeans
Food
When My Non-Essential Skill Became the Most Essential Thing of All
A couple weeks ago, right before the pandemic restrictions took hold, I stood in the bread aisle of our local grocery store and was surprised by the fact that the bread shelves were empty. No stacks of English muffins, potato bread, hot dog rolls. No stone ground wheat, rye or spelt. I’d strolled down the … Continue reading When My Non-Essential Skill Became the Most Essential Thing of All
It Always Goes Back to the Botulism
I poured the oats into the wooden bowl and sprinkled on some cinnamon. I added pecan halves next, absentmindedly breaking them in half again, noting how much crispier they were then the ones I had used in the granola the week before. Those were rubbery, softer. I wasn’t sure if I should have used them. … Continue reading It Always Goes Back to the Botulism
Pudding Bridge
(excerpt from the winter of rice and dal) I can pinpoint the moment when my dread of cooking abated, when I stopped saying the sentence “When my kids grow up and leave I am never cooking dinner again.” The meal that holds all the pressure-- from research that declares it as the most important family time … Continue reading Pudding Bridge
Stopping by a Kitchen on a Winter’s Morning
I wondered if I had miscalculated as I stood in June’s kitchen after dropping by unannounced at 7:15 am. She was still in her pajamas, which were actually her husband’s old boxer shorts. Her house was on my way home from taking my youngest to school. I knew she’d be awake because her husband … Continue reading Stopping by a Kitchen on a Winter’s Morning